I Feel Cold
by TheSanityStealingPenguinQueen
Summary: The story of Barbossa. Will eventually go up to the attack on Port Royal or further. Be nice, this is my first Pirates fic.


A/N: Hey. As far as I've been able to see, this is a very popular topic for fics, it being one of the main points of the first movie. Slight twist on my part. Most fics I've seen show it from Jack's perspective, because he's...Jackalicious, if you will. This is from Barbossa's POV, because there's a severe lackage of Barbossa centered fics. Takes place from the mutiny up til the attack on Port Royal. Might go farther if I'm inspired to do so. That being said, away we go.

I watched our young captain stand at the bough of his beloved Pearl. I took a step onto the deck. With that step I knew there was no turning back.

A few weeks prior the rest of the crew approached me with the idea that Mr. Sparrow was...ah...less than a capable captain. I had no qualms with that claim. He was young. Only 25. The lad had no idea how to captain a ship. The crew had all sorts of ideas about "approaching" Jack on this subject.

"Kill 'im in 'is sleep," suggested Koehler, one of the more violent members of the crew. There was a general murmur of consent. I chuckled at this.

"Couldn't ye think of anythin' more painful than murder?" The crew exchanged a general air of confusion. I lowered my voice. Partly to keep Jack from hearing, and I suppose part of it was for dramatic emphasis. "Ye all know how much the 'Cap'n' loves this boat. Aye?" The crew nodded. "Wouldn't leavin' 'im alone, without it be much...crueler?" I asked with a sneer. The crew chuckled.

"We'll kick 'im off at the next port." Decided Twigg.

"Why wait to port?" I questioned. "I spotted a nice scrap of land up aways. Don't ya'll think dear Cap'n Jack would enjoy being ...ah...governor of his own little island." This idea was eagerly accepted by the rest of the crew. It was decided that I would get the bearings of this illusive Isla de Muerta from Jack, and later on that night we would leave him to die on that pitiful excuse for land that I had spotted. It, of course, would only be fair to leave him with a pistol. With one shot. Most of the crew was reluctant to do that. It left him with too much of a chance. Jack Sparrow was many things, but he was not stupid. He could weasel his way off that island with a single shot and any other effects he carried on him.

The pistol idea was proposed by the only man who was at all reluctant about getting rid of Jack, Bootstrap Bill Turner. There was always something I didn't like about that man. He seemed too loyal for his own good. When Jack picked him up in London, he took him from a wife and child. Bootstrap seemed to feel indebted to Jack for giving him freedom. He often spoke of his wife and the problems they had. How she had convinced him to leave the only thing he really loved, the sea. He never spoke of his child.

I convinced the crew that the pistol idea would work. Not even Jack Sparrow could escape from a deserted island in the middle of no-where. He's not that lucky.

"Jack," I said, announcing my presence to our captain.

"Captain," he corrected without even looking back at me.

"Captain." He turned around.

"Yes?"

"Well...uh..." I stammered, wanting to appear nervous before our godly captain. "I was talking to the rest of the crew, and we came to an...agreement, if you will."

"Yes?" He said with an almost bored expression, as if nothing I said mattered one way or the other.

"Well, we decided that...You said we all had a fair share in the fate of this boat. Aye?" He nodded. "Well...not that we're doubting ye cap'n, but we thought we should all know the location of the island, so we thought you could..." I trailed off, thinking I gave him enough to go on. He starred blankly at me. "Eh...provide us with the bearings for this Isla de Muerta."

"Ah...So, you gents think Cap'n Jack is backstabbing you?" He asked looking at me quizzically. Idiot. Didn't I say we weren't doubting him?

"Not at all sir." He studied me. I looked him directly in the eye, my gaze never straying. I was highly trained in the art of lying.

"And what'll you give me in return?"

"You'll see," I said, not letting on that I was laughing like a maniac on the inside.He sighed.

"If you insist Mr. Barbossa. You go due north, east by northeast, then west til you see the ominous place covered with fog and rocks. Follow the fog and you'll see a canal leading into the rocks."

"Into the rocks?"

"Aye. Then again if you don't believe me..." He started to walk away.

"No. Sorry, go on."

"You go into the rocks, then after awhile, you'll see it. There's a whole trove full of treasure. Shiny shit. Worth nothing." I raised an eyebrow. "You don't trust me?"

"Of course not, captain."

"What you really want...is in chest at the top. Can't miss it. Its in a spotlight. Open it. There are exactly 882 pieces of gold in there. That's what we take." I nodded. "And your end?" Koehler stepped onto the deck and held a knife to dear Captain Jack's throat. I smirked.

"How would you like your own little island?"

A/N: Well? Should I write more. Should I shoot myself because I suck so much? Do tell.


End file.
